May-Day, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring,
Wi...
Flower Poems
Mithridates, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
I cannot spare water or wine,
Tobacco-leaf, ...
Monadnoc, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thousand minstrels woke within me,
'Our music...
Musketaquid, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Because I was content with these poor fields,
...
Nature, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
I A subtle chain of countless rings
The next ...
Nature I, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Winters know
Easily to shed the snow,
And th...
Ode to Beauty, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Who gave thee, O Beauty,
The keys of this br...
The Problem, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
I like a church; I like a cowl;
I love a prop...
The Rhodora: On Being Asked, Whence is the Flower?, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, ...
The Romany Girl, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
The sun goes down, and with him takes
The coa...
Seashore, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
I heard or seemed to hear the chiding Sea
Say...
Song of Nature, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of ...
Thine Eyes Still Shined, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thine eyes still shined for me, though far
I ...
Waldeinsamkeit, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
I do not count the hours I spend
In wandering ...
Wealth, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Who shall tell what did befall,
Far away in t...
Woodnotes I, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
1 When the pine tosses its cones
To the song ...
Woodnotes II, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
As sunbeams stream through liberal space
And n...
After Apple-Picking, by Robert Frost
MY long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a...
The Black Cottage, by Robert Frost
WE chanced in passing by that afternoon
To cat...
A Brook in the City, by Robert Frost
THE farm house lingers, though averse to squar...
The Cow in Apple Time, by Robert Frost
SOMETHING inspires the only cow of late
To mak...
An Encounter, by Robert Frost
ONCE on the kind of day called "weather breeder...
Evening In a Sugar Orchard, by Robert Frost
FROM where I lingered in a lull in March
Outsi...
A Girl's Garden, by Robert Frost
A NEIGHBOR of mine in the village
Likes to tel...
The Grindstone, by Robert Frost
Having a wheel and four legs of its own
Has ne...